Study Day at The Fashion Museum, Bath

For those of you who have been following this blog for the past year, I am sure that you will recall that I had organized a Costume and Textile Study tour to the United Kingdom.  For my next few postings, I will be sharing our travel experiences with you.  We were a small group, 12 in number, which as you can imagine had its' benefits.  Our backgrounds varied, but we were all united by our love of fabric, design, the needle arts and costume.  We shared our knowledge with each other and the result was sheer magic.  I am sure that many new friendships were made that week.  Half of the group came from a costuming background as seamstresses and a tailor from our local heritage village.  They spend their days recreating a wardrobe for 300 volunteers who must be dressed and accessorized for a time span of about 150 years!  So when I had the opportunity to request the types of pieces that would be pulled for our study day at The Fashion Museum in Bath, it was with their background in mind that I requested examples of dress from 1810 to 1915.

Upon arrival our group was divided in half with some heading directly to the two hour scheduled study session and the remainder visiting the exhibits downstairs.  If you have not been to this museum, it is a must on your next visit to Britain.  It is an easy train ride from Paddington station.  The ride takes about 2 hours.  The holdings are vast and the rotating exhibits are always interesting, informative and placed in a context that is entertaining to both the novice and expert costume historian.  If you wish to organize a study session you must be prepared to plan several months in advance.

For me, this type of experience is exactly what a study tour is all about.  Access, access, access.  We were lucky enough to have similar experiences at the Royal School of Needlework and the Globe Theatre.  Walking into the study center, with it's walls lined with reference material to make any librarian jealous, we were greeted with the rack pictured above.  Dresses, representing every decade of the 19th and early 20th century were available for our perusal.  It was like being a kid in a candy shop!

White glove treatment, pencils only for taking notes, sketching details, a magnifying glass and tape measure were well within our reach and best of all, photography was allowed.  Our hostess, brought the garments from the rack as we requested them.  One for each table and when we were finished she quickly replaced them with the next.  As a collector and re-creator who prides himself on the authenticity of his cut and choice of fabrics and trims, I reflected on what an invaluable resource Janet Arnold's books are to the study of fashion history.

We each took a turn at choosing a dress and the first was this one from about 1816.  A wonderful brocaded silk with a pattern of scrolling foliage over vertical stripes of green.  Padded rolls stiffened the hem and their colour was repeated in the neckline and very interesting sleeve treatment. 

A double row of tiny piping trimmed the upper sleeve cap and lower body of the sleeve.  Tiny rosettes pinned the two halves together creating a peek-a-boo effect.  For all my friends out there who like to create gowns from the Regency period, this would surely get you noticed at the upcoming 1812 balls that I am sure are on your calendar for this 200th anniversary.

One of things I like most about studying these garments in this type of setting, is to develop my eye for the colour combinations and unique placements of trims.  I can't stress enough how important this type of detail is for a successful recreation garment.  I always try to source vintage trims for this purpose including buttons and it is amazing how many people I can fool when they take a quick passing glance at my work.  Striped garments are particularly helpful, for they show quite clearly how they have been cut along the grain or bias to achieve various effects.  This was a lovely example of the princess line dress of the late 1870's.  Upon careful examination, it was apparent that some of the fabric had been remade from an earlier garment.  As you know, a very common practice.

I loved the striped bows that decorated the front and the grey and navy combination of the two silk taffetas.  The trim was an embroidered ribbon.  Machine made, with very definite Aesthetic movement motifs.

The image below, taken from Janet Arnold's "Patterns of Fashion 2" shows a similar dress in cut and construction to the example at our disposal.  

My absolute favorite dress was the example below from about 1855-60.  It reminded me very much of a dress that I saw once on ebay but was unsuccessful in winning.  It was the text book example of dresses from this period.  Flounces woven with a pattern "en disposition" very similar to examples in my earlier posting on "Paris, 1855."  Each flounce was lined with a stiffly, coarsely woven linen and possibly horsehair fabric.  We debated the mixture for some time and never did come to a consensus on the composition of the material, but that was the joy of traveling with like minded individuals.  Often the debates were both informative and lively.  The bodice was trimmed with the tiniest of brown and cream chenille balls.  Each ball being one half of each colour.

With the addition of black silk tassels at the front closure of the bodice, it reminded me very much of the example below.

I'm always anxious to share my knowledge

Our charming and very obliging hostess

I have been working on the recreation of an Edwardian tea gown and so the piece below was of particular interest to me. With its inserts of lace and the particular cutting of the muslin to high light inset floral medallions, I was taken by the similarity of treatment to my own work which was still sitting on my work table at home.  I have cut the chiffon to take advantage of windows in the Battenburg lace.  And yes, I made the lace too! I must be mad.

Edwardian printed cotton dress with lace inserts and black ribbon trim

The skirt I am working on currently.

The Museum:  

While one half of the group was enjoying their two hour period of independent study, the other half had the opportunity to view the exhibits in the galleries.  I was particularly taken with the theme of the one below.  The display cases had been turned into storage containers, piled high with boxes and appearing like an area being readied for an exhibit.  Dresses were displayed in groupings of approximately ten year intervals.

Glamour:

Another exhibit concentrated on evening dresses of the 20th century that were arranged in colour families, creating a striking visual display. Candy bright and visually sumptuous, they made your mouth water.  What I remember most about the colours chosen was how they captured a particular moment in time and yet, how timeless these colours seemed from my perspective today.  Several ladies in the group reminisced about similar dresses they had once owned and the occasions when they had worn them.  Such is the power of fashion and memory.

Shoes were also colour blocked, regardless of period. The shoe of the 1920's seemed as appropriate with a dress from the 1950's as did the historically appropriate one.

The Dress of the Year:

Every year this museum has the foresight to add to its collection, one contemporary piece from one contemporary designer.  A fashion editor is honoured or perhaps plagued, with the decision to choose one look that they feel has captured the most memorable moment in the year.  The designer that was chosen to represent 2011 was Sarah Burton.  Her background with Alexander McQueen and her work on Kate Middleton's wedding gown seemed to make her a strong contender.  It was absolutely gorgeous and the picture below does not do it justice.

Our short week was one of those great moments in life when you had the opportunity to truly indulge in the things that you love the most.  I am already planning another tour next year, so mark your calendars.  It really is the trip of a lifetime.

Hoop Dreams

Over the centuries men and women have gone to extraordinary extremes to alter the human form.  In the 2001 exhibition "Extreme Beauty: The Body Transformed," curator Harold Koda of the Metropolitan Museum of Art looked at the many ways cultures from around the globe have highlighted or exaggerated  various areas of the body, often with fantastic or appalling results. The exhibition and its accompanying catalogue dissected the figure into five component parts, comparing varied interpretations within historical and cultural themes. I am not attempting to reproduce the comprehensive work undertaken by Koda and his staff; instead, I will focus on one particular development which has recurred several times in European dress.  If you can obtain a copy of Extreme Beauty: The Body Transformed, it makes for terrific and enlightened reading (Yale University Press, ISBN# 0-300-09117-6).

A Minoan period snake goddess is the earliest reference to the "possibility"of a hooped skirt that I know of. Certainly the technical ability to create such a garment would have existed for many millennia up to this point. The weaving of baskets demonstrates an ability to interconnect materials, so it is not implausible to suggest that such a garment could have been manufactured. In this illustrated clay figure, the skirt projects out in a bell-like form, but is this an actual depiction or simply an artist's way of representing a flounced skirt? Either way, the silhouette achieved by the exaggeration between the smallness of the waist and the width of the hip-line can be compared to later periods in Western fashion.  It is important to remember that this figure was unknown to the public until the early part of the 20th century, long after such skirt-extension devices were fashionable with Europeans.

Minoan Snake Goddess, 1400 BCE

It wasn't until the advent of humanism and the consequent Renaissance that we see a desire to manipulate the shape of the skirt. This was probably a response to a need of the upper classes to visually separate themselves from the working class. In donning an impractical garment in the form of a hooped skirt, 16th century women also created a showcase for the more elaborate and expensive textiles being developed in Italy and through trade with the East. Mid-century illustrations, such as the example below—further supported by portraits of the ruling elite—have provided a wealth of documentation which sadly cannot be supported by extant examples of dress. Developments in the construction of garments, namely the separation of the bodice and skirt, meant that a greater distinction between the upper and lower torso could be achieved. It is interesting to note that while the skirt increased in width during this time, the torso was restricted through corsetry. These two developments came to Northern Europe, from the south: the corset from Italy and the farthingale from Spain. Catherine of Aragon, consort of Henry VIII, is credited with their introduction to England.

Print, 1563

Print, 1567

In the portrait of Henry VIII's last wife, Catherine Parr, we see a silhouette that has changed very little over a 40-year period. Consisting mainly of triangular forms, her compressed body becomes nothing more than a mannequin for the display of a sumptuous arrangement of lynx, cut velvet, and brocade.  None of these materials would have been of domestic manufacture, but would have been tailored in Fleet Street, with the lynx originating from the Russia and the textiles from Italy. She wears the fashionable French hood, another introduction of some 20 to 30 years prior. Her garment affords her little movement, but compensates by providing her with a great deal of warmth. As befits her status as the queen of England, she stands on an elevated dais, covered with an expensive carpet from the Middle East. Such textiles were greatly prized and usually found their way onto table tops and beds. Her anointed, royal status is conveyed by her placement on this prayer rug.

Catherine Parr, 1545?

Catherine's costume would have been the required garment at court for ladies. Away from this atmosphere women were freer to don a more practical garment for their daily activities. The desire for a rounded hip and smaller waist would have been accommodated with the use of bum rolls or what we today would refer to as a bustle. By the end of the 16th century, these could be quite large as seen in the plate below.

Dutch Caricature, 1600

At its worst, the French farthingale was an enormous structure. Fashionable at the end of Elizabeth's reign, it would continue into the first quarter of the 17th century, in the court of James I and Anne of Denmark. The long busk of the bodice forced the skirt up behind. Although there was minimal room for arms and hands, they had to be used for steadying this edifice. Dressing at this time was quite complicated and relied on an enormous amount of time and effort. Much of the garment was either laced or pinned in place. The yardage required to create the skirt was pleated and pinned directly to the foundation garment or hoop itself to hold it in place.

Elizabeth I, circa 1600

The 18th Century:  French Leadership

Freedom from the enormous hoops of the 16th and early 17th centuries was short lived. By the early 18th century, hoops were once again in fashion. Similar to earlier forms, they were made by inserting a variety of materials into an underskirt to display the more expensive textiles of the outer garment. While originally conical in form, they quickly flattened out and began to extend on either side of the torso. By 1740, this silhouette could extend to an unmanageable 5 feet in width! (It is important to remember here that this style would have be for the most formal of occasions.) The effects can be seen in the development of the French door, at six feet wide, the canape, and the profusion of armless chairs in interiors. This flattened silhouette was ideal for the lavish display of the newer silks and their large patterns of sprawling, often exotic botanicals. Italian silks and damasks now compete with the state- supported textile industry of Lyons in France and Spitalfields in London.

Victoria & Albert Museum

See this comparison of an English robe on the left and a robe Française on the right. While the silhouettes are virtually identical, the arrangement of the pleats are quite different. The English example is sewn down. The French example is often referred to as a "Watteau" pleat, after the artist of the same name who documented many a woman wearing such examples. Luckily for fashion historians many examples of both survive in public and private collections.

Under the dresses above a lighter form of support was worn. These baskets, or paniers, were tied around the waist, as seen below.

Kyoto Costume Institute

Print circa 1780

The 19th Century:  Consumerism and the Middle Class

Some costume historians have compared the growing imperialistic policies of European nations with the expanding skirt. Certainly by 1856 the time had come to look back and adopt an undercarriage to support the silhouette. The artificial cage crinoline was introduced to provide a lighter alternative to earlier forms of the hooped petticoat. This development married fashion with technological advancements and made for a cheaper, more universally available garment for all levels of society, truly a much more democratic garment than had been seen since the Renaissance. As the cage crinoline replaced the many layers of petticoats worn up until this time, women must have felt comparatively free.  

Kyoto Costume Institute

In its initial form, the shape of the skirt was dome-like in outline. A pad for support was still needed to hold the weight of the skirt's back. Below, the Princess Royal wears a particularly grand skirt, possibly displaying a quantity of Honiton lace. At their largest, these skirts could have a circumference of 180 inches or more.

Victoria, Princess Royal 1859

The postcard of the crinoline shop below illustrates the two options available to women. The cage crinoline is clearly seen hanging on the left, while a pair of hooped petticoats is on the right. Notice the shopkeepers are as fashionably attired as their potential clientele. This is something you would never have seen with earlier attendants. The democratization of fashion is at work here.

Crinoline Shop, Paris

Victoria & Albert Museum

By the middle of the 1860's, the shape of the skirt and its support has become more elliptical. Emphasis is shifting towards the back of the garment, paving the way for the next development, the bustle, which is still just another variation.

Musee Costumes et des Modes, Paris

The emphasis on a full skirt has had its share of incarnations throughout the 20th century, employed mainly for evening dress. We have seen designers play with interpretations of the panier in the 1920's and new materials allowed Dior to experiment with the fullness of the nylon crinoline of the 1950's.  With the unceasing need for novelty and change among today's fashionistas, the crinoline will undoubtedly reappear sometime soon.

A Diamond Jubilee

Victoria Regina, 1837

"To be a King and wear a crown is a thing more glorious to them that see it 

than it is pleasant to them that bear it."  Queen Elizabeth I

In the autumn of 2000, I volunteered in a local museum as head of their special programs, which was an attempt at community outreach.  My first programmed events celebrated the reign of Queen Victoria, which coincided with the 100th anniversary of her death in January, 2001.  I presented four weekly lectures dealing with her legacy, and launched the series with a talk on the private jewelry of the Queen—not the crown jewels, rather, the jewels which adorn the monarch and are her's to do with as she likes.  This is a private inheritance, which began with Victoria, and has grown into an enormous collection from the bequests of subsequent queens. These talks were an enormous success and led to several repeat performances with other interested groups.  Last April, as part of the excitement leading up to the marriage of Prince William of Wales to Kate Middleton, I repeated the presentation at our community library.

What is it about the relationship of jewelry and majesty?  Ask any youngster to draw a picture of a monarch and invariably they will produce a crown.  Is it the permanence of the material, its intrinsic value or its historical connections that intrigue us?

With only six weeks until I lead my Costume & Textile Tour to the U.K., my thoughts are turning to the upcoming Diamond Jubilee celebrations of our current Queen.  She is only the third monarch to reach this milestone and museums like Kensington Palace are preparing exhibitions to transport us back to Victoria's London of 1897.  This exhibit promises to be a fascinating look at the magic inherent in majesty and hopefully will offer insights into why 21st century people continue to care.

Today's blog is concerned with Victoria herself.  Her diaries, started before she became queen, have provided historians with a rich resource about the psychology of the girl, woman, mother, queen, and empress.  Assuming the throne against great odds and inheriting a discredited monarchy, Victoria came to define an age and restore an institution.

Inherited Jewels:  The Hanoverian Collection

As the grand-daughter of George III, Victoria inherited the throne in 1837.  She did so after the reign of her two uncles, George IV and William IV.  Neither of these men did much for the reputation of the British monarchy and, in fact, George IV has the dubious reputation of being the most despised monarch in recent memory.  An incredible spendthrift, his legacy to the royal collections of furnishings, paintings, and architectural renovations is more significant than any political contribution he made to the country.  In fact, not since Louis XIV of France, has a country been brought so close to financial ruin because of its monarch's selfishness.  Victoria's two predecessors, who were so financially strapped, were in the habit of renting jewels for their coronations, but Victoria had her's set permanently and symbolically into her state crown, to signify the permanence of her new reign.  While some early jewels were inherited through her Hanoverian relatives, few would remain in her possession due to revisions in Germanic inheritance laws that would rule in favor of her uncle. Coupled with that fact, her grandmother, Queen Charlotte, died intestate, meaning that few jewels ended up in the new queen's possession.

George IV Diadem

One of the most recognizable of the early jewels in the Queen's possession is the George IV diadem.  Designed for his coronation in 1820, it was rejected by the King as being unsuitable.  The circlet symbolically contains representations of thistles for Scotland, shamrocks for Ireland, and the Tudor rose and cross of St. George for England. It was worn for the first time at Victoria's coronation and has only been worn by subsequent queens—both monarchs and consorts.  It appeared on the first postage stamp in 1840, in numerous portraits, and has come to represent majesty more than any other jewel in the collection. In her will, Victoria would leave this piece to the Crown in her will for the use of future queens, as she did with all the pieces you will see in this posting.  It may very well be the same diadem referred to in the portrait above, but if you look closely, the painter has failed to accurately portray it.

William IV bar brooches

In many portraits, like the one above, and photographs of the Queen, you can see these bar brooches used to secure her garter sash.  Originally two separate pieces, she would have them reset as a double bar brooch.

Wheat ear brooches.

In 1830, King William IV ordered six brooches that could also be worn as hair ornaments.  Once again the source of these stones were his father's collection. Victoria can be seen wearing them along the neckline of her dresses in many official photographs, throughout the latter part of her reign.

William IV Brooch

Six large brilliants and a number of smaller stones were reclaimed by King William IV from a diamond studded Badge of the Order of Bath that had once belonged to his father George III.

William IV Tassel Brooch

The Early Days: Marriage & Acquisitions

Victoria's Prince Albert had been credited with assembling her pieces of jewelry into more impressive matching suites, or parures, and redesigning some of the old fashioned ornaments to make them more consistent with contemporary taste.  She loved heavy ornate styles which suited the ever-increasing width of the fashion silhouette; this can still be seen in examples that survive in the current collection.  As Victoria was particularly fond of diamonds, she even favored the colour pink for her evening gowns for she felt it set off the stones to their best advantage. Whatever the occasion, she was bedecked with jewels.  On her fingers and thumbs she wore numerous rings; brooches and pins decorated her corsage, veils, and hair. She also wore large pendant drops or chandelier style earrings. Entire suites, like the magnificent amethysts she inherited from her mother, the Duchess of Kent, presented a wealth of options.  A dummy head of the type used in a milliner's shop, was kept in her dressing room where she and her dresser would audition pieces to decorate her bonnets and veils.

Early lithograph of Victoria

Wedding day.  February 10, 1840

Aa an engagement gift from Prince Albert to his bride, this large oblong sapphire and diamond brooch has since been referred to in the family as "Albert's Brooch."  While Albert was alive, she would wear it consistently, along with an earlier bracelet that sported his painted portrait (See lithograph above). You can see it pinned to her breast in the painting below by Sully. After Albert's death in 1861, she would seldom wear it again.  Albert would have five copies made as gifts for each of their daughters. Queen Elizabeth would later purchase one of these for her daughter, Princess Anne, when it came up for auction.

Albert's Brooch

Emerald Tiara

The emerald and diamond tiara seen above is a piece that has stayed packed away for many generations, until recently placed on view at the Queen's Gallery, for an exhibition on royal jewelry. Below, Victoria wears it rather far back on her head, almost as a wreath around her chignon.  Albert's brooch can be seen pinned to her corsage and she wears her wedding dress.  This piece was obviously a favorite and can be seen in numerous images throughout the 1840's and 1850's.  Its origins are unknown to me.

Detail of Emerald Tiara

Lithograph 1850

The Hanoverian George III Diamond Fringe tiara, another inherited piece from Uncle William, can be seen in the portrait by Winterhalter below.  This piece can be worn as both a tiara and a necklace.  It was first worn by Victoria on an official visit to an opera in 1839.  This particular painting commemorates the Duke of Wellington presenting a gift to his godson Prince Arthur. Albert's portrait bracelet can be seen on her wrist.

"The First of May" 1851, Winterhalter

Throughout the 1840's and '50's, Victoria amassed some of her greatest pieces.  While other monarchies were disappearing across Europe, she demonstrated a confidence in her ability to continue to acquire fine jewels.  Made in 1858 and containing 28 collet stones, this set of necklace and earrings has been much admired by subsequent Queens. The source of the stones is said to be from a Garter Badge and ceremonial sword. Like so many pieces created by Victoria in the collection, the source of the gemstones is often repurposed from older or irrelevant pieces.  It demonstrates a frugality that was not apparent in her uncles' dealings. The necklace totals 161 carats, with the largest stones weighing between 8.25 and 11.25 carats apiece.  The pendant stone, known as the Lahore diamond, as well as the stones for the earrings, came from the Timur ruby necklace, taken from the Indian treasury in 1851.  These were then presented to the Queen by the Honourable East India Company.

Queen Victoria's Collet Necklace & Earrings

Queen Victoria's Bow Brooches, 1858

In May 1858, Garrad was commissioned to make a set of three bow brooches, two large and one small, out of 506 diamonds.  These brooches were worn by both Queens Alexandra and Mary at their coronations.

Queen Victoria's Stud Earrings

India and Imperial Majesty

As early as 1850, a wealth of gemstones came into the royal collection through Victoria's empire.  Lord Dalhousie, on behalf of the East India Company, presented her with the Koh-I-Noor diamond, also known as the Mountain of Light.  The presentation was to commemorate the 250th anniversary of its founding by Queen Elizabeth I.  The stone has since been set into the state crown of the late Queen mother, the last English monarch to have been crowned Empress of India.  It has remained there and probably will always.  It is also considered bad luck for a male to wear it.  The first record of it is in 1112CE and was reported to weigh 793 carats in the rough.  It once belonged to Shah Jahan, the man who built the Taj Mahal to honour his deceased wife, Mumtaz Mahal. Victoria wore this stone in a brooch setting to the opening of the Great Exhibition of 1851.  

Victoria received many gifts of gemstones during her reign, but none so magnificent as those from India in 1876 when she was proclaimed "Empress." Bags of unset stones came to the queen, along with jeweled harnesses and other trappings more suitable to the stables of the Shah's, than to the carriage of a queen.  These later would provide another mined source for the future Queens Alexandra and Mary. Once set with opals and later replaced with rubies by Queen Alexandra—who considered the former unlucky—, the regal Indian tiara was made for Victoria in 1853.  It contains 2,678 diamonds and 17 replacement rubies from a necklace presented by Sir Jung Bahadore of Nepal to the Prince of Wales, in 1875/6.  It was a particular favorite of the late Queen Mother and has been associated with her ever since. The more delicate settings favored in the 1880's and '90's can be attributed to the interest generated in the bounty from Indian potentates.

Regal Indian Tiara, 1853

352 carat Timur Ruby known as, "Tribute to the World"

More delicate Indian settings 

The Jubilees:  50 & 60 years on the Throne

With the death of her beloved Prince Albert, Victoria retired from society and closed the lid on the cases of her many jewels. These would be brought out for official portraits only; in private, she preferred more sentimental pieces.  She continued to mark significant events in her family with gifts of jewels, some rather macabre: mounted stags horn, baby teeth or even a glass representation of Prince Albert's eye would be given to children and grandchildren from their dear grandmama. 

The Golden Jubilee, 1887

Victoria's Golden Jubilee Necklace

"In for a penny, in for a pound."  It became the rallying cry for the "Women of the British Empire."  A campaign designed to allow all women of varying economical backgrounds to contribute to a suitable gift for their sovereign. Enough money was collected to pay for the commission of an equestrian statue of Victoria's beloved Prince Consort, with the remainder used to pay for this remarkable necklace which was presented to the Queen on June 24, 1887. The design is of graduated diamond trefoils around a pearl center. The centerpiece with drop pendant is removable and can be worn as a separate brooch.

Diamond Jubilee, 1897

Diamond Jubilee Brooch

A Royal Legacy

Victoria's collection continues to be worn and enjoyed by subsequent generations. Inheritances and gifts continue to enlarge the private Royal Collection which is now of incalculable value, from an intrinsic, stylistic, and historical perspectives. While the current Queen Elizabeth II professes to take little pleasure in acquiring gemstones, she does concede to the value they provide in the trappings of monarchy.  She sees herself as a custodian of these jewels for future generations and will probably, like her foremothers, enlarge the Royal Collection through bequests. 

Queen Elizabeth, 1937/8

Indian Tiara and William IV Tassel brooch

Princess Elizabeth in borrowed Hanoverian Fringe Tiara

The Queen, in Albert's brooch